


Sexual Domination

by Broba



Category: Homestuck
Genre: BDSM, F/F, F/M, Master/Servant, Multi, Service Submission, Sexual Abuse, Sexual Content, Sexual Slavery, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-16 06:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/536419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broba/pseuds/Broba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kinkmeme prompt- This takes place roughly 10-15 years post-game. Both the kids and the trolls have made their ways in life, and largely done quite well for themselves. All except Vriska. In the end, her desperation leads her to the door of the Egberts, John and Rose, and to an old troll tradition. Those who cannot live must serve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Сексуальное Доминирование (Sexual Domination by Broba)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1045691) by [Mr_Scapegrace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mr_Scapegrace/pseuds/Mr_Scapegrace)



  
John cluttered and stamped his way into the house, dropping his briefcase and casually tossing his hat on the stand with a well-practised flick of the wrist. As he was pulling off his overcoat he heard the voice of The Wife from the living room.  
  
“Darling? Is that you?”  
“Who else?” He laughed, “Loch Ness Monster perhaps? Maybe a flying visit from a sasquatch?”  
“I thought it might have been one of my many fiery, Latin lovers overwhelmed with sudden need and lust come barging in my door, demanding immediate and vigorous sexual relief.”  
It was a little game they played regularly. John came into the lounge with a wide grin on his face, “you're as incorrigible as ever, then.”  
“Come along. I've just opened some wine, sit sit.” Rose patted the couch next to her and smiled.  
  
John kicked off his shoes the way he always liked to and drove her nuts, and settled down. Though he didn't say anything, she could always tell when it had been a long day at the office and automatically circled an arm around his neck to stroke gently over his shoulder. John sighed gratefully and accepted a glass of pale white wine from her.  
  
“Thanks, it's been a dickens of a day it really has.”  
“Trouble?”  
“Mm. Just the end of quarter reports got saved into the wrong format, so of course someone had to go through them all-”  
“Mhm,”  
“And then re-do the tables. It was a complete nightmare.”  
“Mmm,”  
“But it's all sorted out now, with no time to spare!”  
“Drink your wine darling, you need to de-stress.”  
“Is that your professional opinion?”  
“It's my wifely opinion, so behave and be told.”  
“Mm, fair enough. How about your day?”  
“Nothing major, ah, I had a free afternoon actually, patient cancelled. Some family thing. I suppose I could have rescheduled something but I really didn't have the energy so I took a half day.”  
“It's an easy life for some!”  
“Hey, I know I'm spoiled.”  
“So you've had some time to make dinner?” John grinned hopefully and raised an eyebrow.  
“Oh. Poop. Darling, I know it's my turn, but I just haven't... I haven't had the energy lately. I'll make it up to you I promise.”  
“Will you now?” John said softly, and quietly set the wine glass down on the table next to him.  
  
Rose knew that tone, and her chest fluttered. She just sat up straight on the couch next to him and put her hands in her lap demurely, nodding to him.  
  
“Stand up,” he said, and she did without a word, “turn round.”  
Rose slowly swivelled on the spot to face away from him, “mhm,”  
  
It was another of their little games. John sat back in the couch with a creak of leather and wood and stroked a finger over his lip where a shadow of stubble was already faintly greying his skin.  
“Undo your pants,” he said, and she did.  
“Shall I close the curtains dear?”  
“No. Drop them.”  
  
Rose let go and made stepping motions on the spot, working her jeans down her thighs to bunch around her ankles. She was wearing a very dignified and serviceable pair of white underpants that were supportive and dignified. John reached out and hooked a finger over the waistband, and tugged them downwards. With two sharp jerks they were tugged down her legs.  
  
“Remind me,” he said, “who did the dinner last night?”  
“You,”  
“Who's turn is it?”  
“Mmm. Mine.”  
“And yet here we are. You know what that means?”  
Rose smiled fondly and clasped her hands together over her heart. John saw her rear quiver like a frightened animal, as goosebumps prickled her pale flesh. They had been married nearly ten years, and the sight of her still made him immediately excited. Their games had not ended with the first flush of romance either, and had only deepened. Rose adored when he did this.  
“Yes, I know.”  
“Are you wet?”  
She delicately slipped a hand over the mound of her pubis and touched her fingertips to the waiting cleft of her vagina, “yes,”  
“Yes what?”  
“Yes, sir. Yes I'm wet. Sir.”  
John nodded. “Bend over. And remember to count them.”  
He stood up and stroked a hand over her waiting bottom as she complied. He drew back his hand and gave her a smart, disciplined clap across the buttocks.  
“Ah! One, sir!”  
  
Later, and they were eating a simple pasta dish at their wide wooden kitchen table, either side of a candle that was jammed into the empty wine bottle. It was worth the spanking to enjoy John's cooking, Rose reflected. On the other hand, it's not like she even needed an excuse to enjoy a spanking. They were entirely comfortable enough around each other to be open and specific about their needs and desires, and so entirely in love with each other that they would do anything to indulge one another.  
“Oh,” Rose sat up with a start, “I completely forgot! You'll never believe who called this afternoon.”  
“Oh? Who?”  
“Go on, guess.”  
“Umm-m-m, Jade? Is she back from that thing abroad yet?”  
“Bolivia. And no, not her.”  
“Oh God, was it your mother?”  
Rose pouted and reached over to flick him on the tip of his nose, “no it wasn't, not that it wouldn't have been lovely and very welcome!”  
“Mm, yeah I meant to say that, slip of the tongue.”  
“You and  your slippery tongue, John Egbert.”  
He waggled his eyebrows comically, “the ladies always say it's my best feature.”  
Rose looked down then up again and raised her eyebrows meaningfully, “second best feature. And come on, guess!”  
“All right I give up! I don't want to give this hole any deeper!”  
“It was Vriska,”  
  
John sat back and sighed, rubbing his chin. It had been- well almost ten years, probably. At least since the wedding, maybe longer, that he had spoken to her. How she had got their number was another matter entirely. They still kept up with the trolls in a general sense, of course, but the old gang had drifted apart somewhat since the game. Truth be told it was something of a blur now that it was all over and done with, and on the whole they had all been glad enough to put those fearful days behind them and make new lives.  
  
“Vriska? You're joking!”  
“I know! Crazy, but seriously it was her.”  
“God, I haven't heard from her in forever. In fact, I think she even cut off from the other trolls. I spoke to Karkat in the summer and he hadn't heard from her in forever.”  
“Well apparently she made a big thing about how she didn't need anyone, and was going to make herself a life on Earth without any help at all, so she pretty much just wandered off into the sunset.”  
“That's what I heard too. God, Vriska! There's a name from the past. So how is she doing?”  
“Mm, that's the thing. Not too well, really.”  
“Oh,”  
Rose set down her fork and looked at her husband seriously, “I actually think she's homeless.”  
“Fuck. Really?”  
“Well she didn't so much say so, but, you know, she didn't sound like she was doing so well. She asked if she can come and see us about something.”  
“I see. What did you tell her?”  
“Well what could I? I said yes, and she immediately started prattling on about how she would be here as soon as possible. I think she was going to set up right away. I actually think she might have been calling from a public phone, God knows where.”  
“I see.”  
“Oh darling, are you angry?”  
“Mm? No, I mean, you're right what could you say? It's just... I hadn't even heard anyone mention her in years. God, I wonder how she is?”  
“I think we'll be finding out sooner rather then later.”  
  
Rose turned out to be more right then she had imagined. In fact, they were both awoken that very night at one in the morning by a rattling hammering on their door. John sat bolt upright in bed and fumbled for his glasses in the dark, Rose groaned and turned on the lamp on the night stand.  
“What the hell is that?”  
“Someone's here,” John whispered, as he got up and pulled a robe on.  
“You're not seriously going to get it? It's... it's one in the morning!”  
“That's why I'm taking my little friend,” John hefted a baseball bat that was stood in the corner.  
“John! You can't be serious!”  
  
He was already on his was down, bat in hand. Rose struggled into a robe of her own and tugged it tightly around her midriff, creeping down the stairs after her husband. John stepped lightly across the cold tiles of the hallway to the front door, hissing softly at the freezing cold stone on his bare feet. He put the chain on the latch and opened the front door a crack. Rose heard him exclaim and then throw the door wide open, and a very wet figure stepped in out of the rain and dark. If it hadn't been for the distinctive horns, Rose might not have recognised Vriska.  
  
She was an absolute mess. Her hair was a ragged mass that fumbled off her head into knots down her back. She had on only a light summer coat over a wifebeater shirt, and dirty jeans that were ragged and muddy at the cuffs. Rose, who knew the signs, looked over her hands as she wordlessly took Vriska's coat and noted the faint marks. John, of course, insisted she come straight into the lounge and sit down, he fussed about with the fireplace and got the gas lit, bustled off to the kitchen to set the kettle going and before it was finished he had already returned with a blanket that he tossed over their shivering guest. Vriska was barely speaking the entire time, she responded in a half-whisper to their questions. Rose stood in the corner, shooting concerned looks at John, and when he ran back to the kitchen she approached slowly and patted Vriska on the shoulder, causing the troll to recoil for a moment.  
“Vriska?” She asked softly, “what happened?”  
“Nothing,”  
“When I got your call, I didn't expect you to turn up right away like this! What did you do, hop right on a bus?”  
Vriska nodded mutely.  
“Why?  
“I,” her voice was husky and deep when she wasn't whispering, she obviously smoked heavily, “I didn't, uh,” she coughed, “I didn't have anywhere else to go, anyway. I- I'm sorry, I-”  
“It's fine!” John boomed as he strode back into the room beating a wide serving tray with mugs of hot, sweet white tea, “of course you had to come of course. Vriska, Jesus it's been years! Have you been in some kind of trouble?”  
“It's nothing,”  
John set down the tray on a little occasional table and abruptly reached out to cup her chin firmly in his palm and tilt her head up to look into her eyes, “tell me.”  
  
She did. Vriska hadn't been able to make her way in the world as well as some of the others. She didn't have Karkat's knack for rabble-rousing that made him such a hit on the radio. She couldn't go into engineering like Equius had, or comparative anthropology like Aradia, who was up for some very serious prizes in the year. She hadn't had Tavros' luck in securing a deal for his childrens' games, or Kanaya in her botanical career. Vriska had simply expected everything to fall in line for her, she had just assumed that her luck and charisma would carry her and- it hadn't. She told them about some of the things she had done to get by, in a matter-of-fact way that made John blanch and Rose place a hand on his shoulder supportively. John reached up and stroked her hand tenderly. Vriska had gone from place to place and, as the novel appear of the trolls had worn off, she had very quickly found herself in a position of having no transferable skills or means to support herself. In human terms he didn't have anything close to an education, and of course she was too prideful to ask for help.  
  
That was until she had started living with some guy in upstate New York, apparently that had been reasonably stable until he started hitting her. She still had numbers for a couple of the trolls, and she had asked them for the contact details for John- her last resort.  
  
“Oh God, you really should have called earlier,” John looked as though his expression would crumble at any moment.  
“Really?” She looked up shyly, with a wariness that seemed alien and odd on the face of Vriska Serket.  
Rose chipped in, “of course, Vriska. It might have been some time, but you're always a friend. And, always welcome here.”  
John looked up at her and smiled with something like relief. She leant over and nudged her forehead against his with a smile, a little way of saying 'of course, silly.'  
“Well then,” John clapped his hands together, “we have a spare room- it's not much, but you're welcome to it just as long as you want, I'll put a bed together. Darling, do we still have that air mattress from when Dave was over with the kids?”  
“Um, I'm pretty sure. Is it in in the box room over the old wardrobe?”  
“Ah, that plastic box with the yellow thing?”  
“That's the one, I'm quite sure it's up there.”  
“Right, I'll get to it. Vriska, just rest up and get warm, don't you worry about a thing.”  
  
When John was gone, bustling up the stairs like a miniature tornado, Vriska turned to regard Rose a little uncertainly. There was a certain tension in the air between them that Rose couldn't quite put a finger on. She awkwardly tugged a lock of blond hair behind her ear, suddenly self-conscious. Trolls didn't age in the same manner as humans, it was something to do with their blood. Tavros already looked like he was in late middle-age, as did Karkat. Gamzee, the last time they had seen him, hadn't changed in the slightest and the humans all towered over him to his great chagrin. Vriska looked like no more then a teenager. Rose was painfully aware of the odd wrinkle at the corner of her eyes, the slightly deepened lines at the corners of her mouth. She knew she was being a stupid woman about it all, but she was after all a woman and she couldn't help herself.  
  
“Rose,” began Vriska haltingly.  
“Yes?”  
“I didn't know... you and John...”  
“Mm? Oh yes. Ten years, nearly.” She held up a hand with the ring on it, Vriska stared blankly.  
“Married, yes?”  
“Yes. Did you ever...?”  
“Oh! Oh no. No. It was... I couldn't. I mean, I understand what it's all about, but it's still all too...” Vriska trailed off sheepishly. Seeing her like this was almost painful.  
“Alien?”  
Vriska nodded, “yes. It's not that I don't like it here, this planet is pretty cool really. And the people are... nice. But I never got that far with anyone.”  
“What did you think when it was me answering the phone, earlier?”  
Vriska shrugged, “figured you might be visiting or something? I don't know. Maybe I just never expected John to end up with anyone.”  
“You mean, anyone else?”  
Vriska blushed, it was a very noticeably blue tint across her cheeks. Rose made the conscious decision to snuggle under the blanket next to her and put an arm around the girl's shoulders. She was till freezing, she must have been chilled to her bones.  
“Vriska. Please, it's fine. Old times. And you really are a friend, I mean it when I say you are absolutely welcome in this house.”  
“Thanks. Thanks Rose.”  
“You've had some pretty bad problems, hm?”  
“I guess so. At first, I figured that life was just hard on Earth. Then I started to hear how the others were doing. How everyone else managed to not be a... a fucking fuck up! Like me!”  
  
Her shoulders started to shake, and she swallowed down a thick wet sob. Rose pulled her close and stroked her hair, heedless of the wet and the grime, she held her troll friend close and kept her warm.  
  
They put Vriska to bed in the spare room and by the time John and Rose were back in their own bed, it was all of four in the morning.  
“I don't think I'll go in tomorrow,” John whispered, “it's a Friday anyway, I'll take an emergency holiday.”  
“Mmm, good idea. I can stay in too, it won't take too much shuffling round.”  
“Thanks, that would be great if you could. I can't believe she ended up this way, you know.”  
“Could happen to anyone. Sometimes people just fall through the cracks- believe me, I've got enough patients who are just the same way.”  
“Well. We can't let her just wander off again, not till she's back on her feet.”  
Rose stared up at the ceiling and bit her lip gently, “John,”  
“Hum?”  
“When you were getting to room set up, we had a talk. I'm afraid things have gone quite worse for her then she was letting on. Maybe worse even then she admitted to me.”  
“Oh,”  
“Yes. And there's a reason she came here to you tonight. You specifically, I mean.”  
John sighed. He reached down under the covers and took her hand, “go on.”  
“I'm not worried. I mean, I'm not jealous if that's what you're thinking.”  
“Nor do you have any need to be.”  
“But- listen to me John. This is serious,”  
“Okay,”  
“There's a troll tradition for times like this. She came here to, uh, make an offer to us.”  
“Offer? Offer what?”  
“Well, herself.”  
“Huh?”  
“It's the tradition. When a troll realises that they aren't really making much of a go in life, they have the option of being culled as a failure, or there's another way out.”  
“Oh come on, she can't seriously be that bad,”  
“It's serious. The other option is that the troll simply gives themselves to someone they trust.”  
“Gives themselves? Like... actually...?”  
“Exactly like it sounds. They just throw up their hands and say 'I give up, you take care of everything,' basically.”  
“That sounds quite defeatist.”  
“Well I suppose. But it's also supposed to be quite liberating to be free of the demands that troll society placed on them. Apparently it was pretty common.”  
“So she wants to stay with us?”  
“More then that. She wants to be your slave, John. She wants you to literally own her.”  
John paused, “oh.”  
“You entirely have my permission to get that erection, dear.”  
“Heh, well, you know me.”  
“Oh I certainly do!” Rose turned and kissed his ear, “she wants to be mine, too.”  
“Oh?”  
“Well, we come as a set. She's happy with that.”  
“What did you tell her?”  
“I said I'd talk to you. What do you think I should tell her?”  
John smiled in the dark, “you're thinking about saying yes, aren't you!”  
“Well, I have to admit... she did used to be a complete bitch back in the old days.”  
“Bluh bluh. A huge one.”  
“I used to dream about someone taking her down a peg.”  
“Well, I mean... I'm up for it if you are.”  
Rose folded her arms under her breasts and stroked a foot up and down John's shin. “I'm up for it. It'll be nice to have someone else to take the spankings.”  
John chuckled softly, “did you tell her about... you and me?”  
“I didn't want to say anything till I told you about it.”  
John shifted onto his side, facing her. “I love you, you know.”  
“I thought as much,”  
“Sometimes I think you're way dirtier then I am, you naughty girl.”  
“Honey, darling, compared to me you're a pussy cat.”  
“That's the sort of talk that earns a spanking,”  
“Promises, promises.”  
  
In the morning John was up early. The disturbance during the night had precluded the possibility of a full nights' sleep, but if he had stayed in bed he knew he would have been gone for the day. He was sorting out a breakfast in the kitchen when Vriska came downstairs. He beckoned to her and offered her a place at the table while he dished out pancakes and bacon just the way he liked them. The smell was enticing beyond belief, and even Rose was persuaded to quit their bed and come down for a bite to eat. When they were all sat at the table John gave Rose a look, she glanced across at Vriska and shook her head uncertainly.  
  
“So,” said John slowly, “have you thought about what you want to do, Vriska?”  
“Uhm,” she coughed discreetly and wiped the back of a hand over her nose absent mindedly, “I dunno,”  
“You're welcome here of course,” said John. Rose touched her shoulder gently in reassurance.  
“Thank you, John.”  
“For as long as you want, and there's no pressure.”  
“Um. Thank you John,”  
“Rose told me all about-”  
“John!” Rose snapped.  
Vriska blushed more heavily then he had ever imagined she could and seemed to want to sink her head between her shoulders entirely.  
“Um, I mean I don't- it's not-” John stammered.  
“John, hush,” Rose hissed, “she's embarrassed, you're embarrassing her.”  
“Sorry,”  
  
Vriska pushed away from the table and stood up suddenly. They went quiet as she walked over to the sink and rooted about in the cutlery drawer. John gasped and darted to his feet as she turned around with one of his best chef's knives, something closer to a cleaver then a true knife. Both of the humans backed away slowly as Vriska approached them carrying the large knife, neither of them was sure what to do about it and the situation was close to panicked.  
  
Suddenly, Vriska dropped to her knees, and then bent over to press her forehead against the floor. The tips of her horns clacked on the tiles, and she reached forwards with both hands to push the knife out in front of her, all I absolute silence. She reached back into her mass of hair and fussed with it, pulling the knots and angles forwards to expose her bare neck. Otherwise, she was absolutely still and silent like that.  
“John,” whispered Rose.  
“I- oh shit, this is pretty serious!”  
“Well do something!”  
“I intend to.”  
  
In a different time-zone, across the midwest, a phone rang in an studio office filled with recording equipment and with a stream of bitter curses it was answered.  
“Who the fuck is calling at this fucking hour? I have a fuck load of work to do for the show tonight and so help me I will reach the fuck down this phone line and fuck the fuck you fucking up! Speak! Be heard, unwelcome asshole on my line! Who the fuck is this? I want to know who I'm eviscerating in the most unwholesomely rude fashion. Grow a pair of human balls and strap them to your retarded reproductive apparatus, who is it?”  
“Hi Karkat!”  
Karkat grunted and coughed, rubbing a hand firmly over his chest. He settled back in his swivelling chair and grunted.  
“Egbert. It's been a while. I wasn't kidding about being busy. Well mostly. The fuck do you want?”  
“Listen, I have a bit of a situation,”  
“Why are you whispering? Did that wife of yours finally rip out your vocal cords and eat them in front of your whimpering stupid face? Because I told her to do that.”  
“Karkat! It's a big deal. Look, Vriska's here.”  
“FUCK!” Karkat roared, and immediately collapsed back into a fit of coughing. John heard something down the line that sounded like an asthma inhaler.  
“Karkat? Are you okay?”  
“Fuck yeah, I'm dandy like Mandy. Just not as young as I used to be.”  
“Uh, okay. But yeah, she just turned up last night-”  
“Where in fuck has she been? I haven't heard anything about her in, fuck, sweeps.”  
“Years,”  
“Fuck you, Earth boy.”  
“Listen, okay. She's here, kneeling down, and she just pushed a knife at me. What do I do?”  
The line was suspiciously silent, except for the sound of rasping breathing.  
“Kar-”  
“I'm here.”  
“What do I do? Is there like a troll tradition for this?”  
“Can you see her neck?”  
“What's that got to do with it?”  
“Oh, I don't know, maybe something? Wow, you should really contact someone who has some kind of insight into troll culture and ask them about it.”  
“Urrgh. Fine, yes, she's pulled her hair up I can see her neck. She's just staying there,”  
“Don't worry, she's not going anywhere, she won't move.”  
“How do you know?”  
“Because, fuck load, this is indeed a troll thing. She's waiting to see if you'll take up her offer to you.”  
“Oh! Yes I know about this, she explained it to Rose last night, she wants to stay with me now,”  
“Fuck that. She wants to be your slave, human. You got yourself a spiderbitch slave right there!”  
“Heh, so she was serious, then. I thought it was all going to turn out to be a joke.”  
“This isn't a fucking joke, John. This is serious troll cultural shit. This goes back for thousands of sweeps, and you better be serious about it.”  
“Oh I am, I am. I am actually very serious about this, I just don't know what I'm supposed to do.”  
“Well, you have two options right now, John.”  
“Okay.”  
“You can grab a handful of hair and pull her up to her knees, give her a stern look and tell her that her ass is accepted into your hive, and that she's yours now,”  
“Okay.”  
“Okay? You think you can handle that?”  
“Well let's just imagine I can. What is the other option?”  
“Uh. Well, that's what the knife is for. If you don't want her, you have to pick it up and stab her in the fucking neck.”  
“Seriously?”  
“I told you this is all serious! You either keep her or kill her, that's the tradition.”  
“I think I'm going to have to call you back. How long do I have to choose?”  
“I told you, she won't move. She'll stay right the fuck there till she starves if you don't do anything.”  
“I'm definitely going to have to call you back.”  
  
John put the phone down and walked back to the kitchen, passing by Rose at the door who was as white as a sheet. He realised why Vriska hadn't just come out and said what she wanted to do, now, if the options were acceptance or death. He reached down and picked up the knife carefully, and he heard Vriska breathe in sharply but she didn't move or answer. John reached back with the knife and Rose gingerly took it from him. John shared a look with her and nodded confidently, and she nodded in return.  
  
He gripped a fistful of her knotted, filthy hair and held tight. With a heave he pulled upwards and she surged up to her knees, giving out an emotional sigh that throbbed in her throat.  
“You,” said John quietly, “belong to this hive now, understand?”  
“Yes,”  
John beckoned and Rose joined him, he put a hand around her waist, “this is our hive, and you belong to it. Me and Rose. Clear?”  
“Oh, yes.”  
John smiled, and petted her cheek. She looked up at him openly, “it's all right now. We've got you, you'll be fine. We'll take care of everything.”  
Vriska let out a sob and bowed down again, her arms wound around John's ankles.  
  
By the mid-afternoon the house had settled into a new and different rhythm with shocking rapidity. John tapped away on his piano softly, singing under his breath. He was stood up at the upright piano, he liked to play while standing sometimes. He sand 'Satellite of Love' by the Velvet Underground while notes tinkled into the air. Behind him, on the couch, Rose reclined with a newspaper, she was enjoying the music. She loved these times when John could play for her, just whatever came to his mind. It was quite rare that they had time like this with no imminent responsibilities to think about and she firmly intended to enjoy every moment of it.  
  
Vriska came into the room with a tray, and picked up Rose's empty glass, and a few other odds and ends to take out to the kitchen. She returned with a bottle of wine and a fresh glass, wordlessly offering the glass to her. Rose looked across at John, then up at her, and accepted it. Vriska silently poured the wine for her, and took the bottle away. Rose got back to reading the paper, when she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Vriska had silently knelt down on the floor next to the arm of the couch, and was looking intently at John as he played. Rose took the opportunity to watch her closely. The troll was evidently traumatised, and possibly suffering from some alien equivalent to long term anxiety and stress. If it were a human she were dealing with, Rose would have diagnosed the classic symptoms of an abuse sufferer, but she held back from making any judgement. Besides- there really was something about seeing spiderbitch kneeling there that tickled her, as much as she hated to think so. Rose reached out and touched the back of Vriska's head, stroking gently. To her surprise the troll just closed her eyes and leant back slightly, and she actually let out a soft chirruping sound that was like a purr. It was frightening to see her this way, and yet for the first time since she had arrived a bedraggled mess the night before, Vriska actually looked a little bit comfortable.  
  
John finished playing and looked around, it was as though he were waking from a dream. He reached out and Vriska automatically pulled herself up to her feet and approached him. He encircled an arm around her and pulled her into a hug while Rose smiled on. John caught her eye over Vriska's shoulder and Rose raised her glass with a wry grin, knocking back a little wine and winking at him. She could tell when John was in one of his moods. He stroked a fingertip over her grey cheek and whispered,  
“Who's is this?”  
“Yours.”  
He touched her throat, “this?”  
“Yours.”  
His hand slowly stroked along the line of her collarbone and down over the swell of her firm breasts, firmer and more distinct then would be a human girls'. “And?”  
“Yours, too.”  
He patted her on the backside and she smiled shyly, nodding to the unspoken question and whispering, “yours.”  
“I keep thinking that I'm going to wake up at any moment, and this will all be some kind of a weird dream all along.”  
“I don't know. Maybe. I never thought things would go like this,” she sighed softly, “I had some pretty bad luck.”  
“Not always,”  
“No, not always.” She smiled, looking up at him through thick lashes that were cerulean and flecked with opalescence like the wings of an insect.  
“Darling,” Rose shifted slightly and John looked up, “much as this is a charming scene, the poor girl really is a bit worse for wear. I think that a bath is in order.”  
“Mm, Rose is right, you need one, and those clothes are- well, not the best.”  
  
Vriska nodded in understanding, and before either of them could say anything she stripped her shirt up off her body, and then pulled down her jeans. They were snug but worn, and slid off easily without being unbuttoned. She pulled down the tiny black panties she had on underneath as well. Stepping out of her clothes she stood unabashedly nude before them both. Not that she was so brimming with confidence, her blush was back again, but she had no hesitation in revealing herself to her owners. Rose raised her eyebrows and said,  
“Well!”  
John was somewhat speechless. Vriska looked between them quickly and wrapped her arms around herself with a squeal.  
“I'm sorry! I thought you wanted me to!”  
“Vriska! No it's, it's fine!” John started.  
“I'm sorry!” She was practically moaning it now, “I'm sorry, please!”  
It was Rose who broke the deadlock, “Vriska! Silence!”  
  
That caught her. Vriska's mouth clamped shut instantly and she stood there, with her head bowed in contrition. The thought that she had done wrong, and so soon, was obviously stressing her enormously.  
  
“Vriska,” said Rose imperiously, stranding up, “look at me.”  
A mass of black hair shook.  
“Vriska! Don't make me tell you again!”  
Vriska looked up sorrowfully.  
“Do you really think we aren't pleased with you? Look- look at me! Look at John, you think he's upset? We're not. You surprised us, that's all. This might be a tradition to you, but we're still learning- do you understand?”  
A small nod.  
“I asked you a question.”  
“I- do. I understand.”  
Rose smiled thinly, “you can call me Miss.” John raised an eyebrow at that, but didn't comment.  
“I understand, Miss.”  
“Now go on upstairs and run a bath, you hear? I'll be up in a moment to do your hair, you look a fright. Go on, scoot.”  
Rose patted her on the bottom as Vriska scuttled gratefully away with more frantic head-bobbing.  
  
John reached over to snag Rose's wine glass and take a heavy gulp of it.  
“Well, that's certainly something.”  
“You look shocked. Haven't you made me do the same now and then?”  
“Of course, but it's so sudden...”  
“You mean you're used to using your wiles a little first, dear?”  
He smiled at her, “a little, yes.”  
“Mm, I think I understand it. Like it or not, you're the last stable person she really had in her life before she went off on her own. I think it kind of makes sense that she'd come to you to look after her.”  
“You think?”  
“I do. And I think she made the right choice, too.”  
John grinned and pulled her close, kissing her deeply.  
“I love you honey,”  
“I love you too darling. And that erection had better be there for me as well as her.”  
“Always. We'll share and share alike, promise.”  
“Good. Now let me get the little rapscallion into some semblance of cleanliness and you can feel free to go to town.”  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Vriska had changed. The changes were not so much physical- in fact both John and Rose were extremely discomfited by how similar she appeared to the days when they had been gaming. Her lifespan was immense and the humans had always known that in a vague sense, but it was something else to be confronted with it so directly. She was a little taller perhaps, her features a little firmer, but she might well have been the same person she always was. After the game her arm and her eye had been restored. When she looked at them, they saw a mirror on their own childhoods.

The change in Vriska was more subtle- she was subdued, far too quiet. As Rose led her upstairs to the bathroom to run her a hot bath she had simply trailed along mutely, and when Rose directed her into the steaming water she complied without a comment, even as she shuddered with the effect of the sudden heat on her alien metabolism. By nature trolls tended to take an oddly unique view of bathing, they certainly didn't generally feel the need to clean themselves as often as humans did, but her hair was matted with grease and dirt and her skin was grimy. Rose had expected more of an argument out of her, and when it was clear there wouldn't be one she just knelt down beside the bath and picked up a cake of soap to start gently cleaning the troll's back.

“You shouldn't do that,” said Vriska softly. Rose started, perhaps this was a flash of the old temper again.  
“Vriska?”  
“I'm yours, you don't have to clean me.”  
“Oh. I see.” Rose watched her carefully, at first she was afraid of one of Vriska's famous tantrums, or at least more opposition then that.  
“I can do it myself, if you want. What do you want me to do?”

Suddenly Rose found that Vriska was staring at her openly, and she fought the urge to flinch. This troll girl was completely exposed, and vulnerable. She was obviously a victim of terrible circumstances, and Rose chided herself mentally for ever imagining that the situation might be one that she could take advantage of, no matter how tempting. Vriska stared at her in silence, and then looked down at a stream of bubbles floating lazily across the water before her.

“You don't want me here,” she said, flatly.  
“I didn't say that.”  
“Humans never say anything,” Vriska huffed a sigh, “they just do weird things. And that's that.”

It was a gnomic comment and Rose frowned, slowly and deliberately parsing her statements. It was an enormous breach of professional ethics to analyse someone she was close to, even someone like Vriska so obviously in need, but she couldn't help herself. It was an appalling habit she had painstakingly trained herself out of but it came back in a flood.

“Vriska. Look at me.”  
Vriska did, obediently.  
“Yes, Rose?”  
“You'll do anything I say?”  
Vriska nodded briskly, a bob of the head, but her eyes stayed fixed on Rose, “yes of course, that's how it is.”  
“Then hush and lean forward, I'm going to soap your back.”

Later, and Rose took John aside to talk to him. Vriska was in her room, swaddled in thick towels happily and waiting for her bedraggled mess of hair to dry. Rose had given her a thorough cleaning, but the hair would be a job all on its' own. They sad down in the living room, and Rose took the precaution of closing the door. Vriska was all the way upstairs, but still she didn't trust the troll not to sneak down and eavesdrop.

“Dear,”  
“Rose?” John took her arm, his hand snug around her bicep and reassuring. Rose guided him to his chair, and sat down in the couch next to it, where by laying over the arm of the couch she could nestle against his shoulder.  
“I'm worried about Vriska.”  
“Me too. But she wants this.”  
“I mean, I'm worried as a professional, not just as your wife.”

Rose's choice of words was meaningful and John worked his jaw subconsciously.  
“You're not supposed to do that, you know.”  
“I know, I know.”  
“How long did it take you to stop analysing me all the time? And now she's barely been here a day and already-”  
“I know! I'm sorry, I just... John, if she came to my office and was a client of mine, I would immediately be seeing all these red flags going up. I can hardly ignore them now can I?”  
“Well... what do you see?”  
“She's obviously been through a lot. She's been traumatized, and more then once. Look, I'm not saying we shouldn't do this- we can hardly kick her out, and in her state of mind I think it'd be worse for her if we tried, but- be careful. I can't be sure she's really... stable.”  
“Well, it is Vriska.”  
“That's what worries me.”  
“Mm. All right then, look I promise I'll be careful.”

John mulled the thought over, while Rose watched. He had become very much like his father in that his emotions were submerged beneath an outwardly placid mien that could make him seem distant at times. He would put on a smile and act as though the world couldn't touch him, which made him seem distant at times, but she could see right though him. The man who had claimed her and who she had made her constant companion and chosen partner in life was concerned, but there was nothing more to do. She knew that he wouldn't appreciate her badgering him, but that her warnings would be taken to heart and acted upon and that must satisfy her.

He was her husband, her lover, her partner in the intensely erotic games they both enjoyed, and she had learned to trust his judgement. They hadn't indulged in a safe-word for years, they no longer felt that they needed one. She felt so absolutely comfortable with him that she had no need for a safety that would only make the experience a little less intense for her. She had to trust him again now, with Vriska. 

“John. What do you want to do with her?”  
John was studiously reading the inner pages of a newspaper that he wasn't really looking at. “You want to know?”  
“Of course. We're sharing remember.”  
“I'm going to use her.”  
“How?”  
“You know how.”  
Rose sucked on her lip and nodded slowly, “please be careful.”

John folded the paper and sighed, reaching out for and receiving her hands in his own, Rose rolled onto her stomach to look at him directly.

“I promise. I just get this feeling, like... everything I know about trolls so far, and everything I know about... the things I do, is telling me that Vriska needs something here. She's been through things, but she made a choice to be here and it took a hell of a lot of work to get here I bet. She's not here because of some random chance, and if I don't give her what she came for then I'm not helping her.”  
“I think I know what you mean,”  
“Yeah. Something in her needs to be told that she's been a good girl, for once, and done right. And the only way she's getting that is if we take her seriously- she really is ours, now.”  
“I'm still scared.”  
“I know honey. We'll just take one day at a time, you know?”

And so it was, that they took one day at a time. When she was cleaned up properly, Vriska looked a little more like her old self although her personality was still completely wrong, to John's thinking. She was actually shy, and retiring. John never got over that really, and in private moments he had to admit that seeing the proud and fierce Vriska cowed and kneeling at his feet roused up powerful feelings in him. Rose knew it too, she saw the gleam in his eyes.

If anything, the presence of Vriska made things better between John and Rose. Their games had entered a new and strange place with the arrival of this slave in their house, and they both liked it. John would grin savagely and grab a fistful of Rose's hair, and lead her firmly up to bed. Slamming the door he might imperiously command her to yank off her panties, or flip her skirt up over her ass. He would slap her flanks and take her, roughly and noisily. It excited her to know that Vriska could undoubtedly hear what they were up to, and she loved the new-found vigour in John.

For all that, he did not touch Vriska- yet. She served well, and she was expected to be obedient and well-behaved. She knelt properly, and addressed them in the respectful way they demanded. She even stripped off her clothing and crouched in front of John at the end of the working day so that he could rest his legs across her back, but he did nothing more then that with her. She knew he wanted her, it was obvious from the way his strange human genitals became warm and firm within his clothing when they brushed up against each other or when John abruptly touched her body. His firm, commanding hands were like fire to her, and she felt his ownership seeping into her being.

It wasn't like being with other trolls. The humans were aware of the vague traceries of troll culture, as far as that was possible, but the emotional mood was completely different to anything Vriska had experienced. That too was slowly seeping into her mind. John might be different, and alien, but she belonged to him and his ways were becoming her ways. She wanted only to please him, and it was becoming increasingly obvious to her that she was not being permitted to do that in the way that John and Rose pleased one another. Vriska did not question, at first. Her owners could use and dispose of her as they wished, it was not her place to wonder, but then John would stroke the back of her neck or the curve at the base of her back and it was all she could manage not to leap on him and beg him to use her fully.

What Vriska didn't know was, John was fully aware of the situation and was planning every little bit of it. He remembered when he was a kid the visceral thrill of a prank well played- on his father, his friends... he would go into intricate detail in his mind planning out the perfect moment when the joke would be revealed and he would get to see their faces when they realised that John had got them again. It was a similar feeling now- the delight in putting a secret plan into action but this time it was not a joke coming, not at all.

John found himself desiring Rose all the more, for knowing that he had this troll girl under his sway. His wife was no longer the only woman in his immediate grasp, and that idea that he had this choice only made her all the more alluring to him. For her part Rose was following his lead and was more the happy to see the subtle effect it was having on Vriska. She was obedient and calm of course, and she spoke with the greatest of respect as she might expect, but the frustration bubbling below the surface was becoming all the more apparent and Vriska was coming very close to screaming. Frankly, Rose was surprised that she hadn't leapt on top of John already- and when finally she did work up the courage to demand what she so evidently needed it would be the first time she had behaved remotely like her old self since she had arrived. John's game was difficult on the troll it was true, but Rose was starting to see that he played it well.

They were all together sharing dinner in the evening when Vriska finally could take no more. In her customary position kneeling beside the dinner table she could quite clearly see the way that John kept reaching over to stroke Rose's fingers or touch her leg. It was another night that would go like all the others, when he took her into their room and she would have to endure the ridiculous sound of human lovemaking again. And, once more, there would be nothing for her. Vriska knew she was thinking in a way that was highly inappropriate for one of her standing, but after the weeks she had been in this hive she had come to accept that she was owned, and that this was her home. No longer fearing that she would be kicked out on a whim, exactly, she was growing more bold in recognising what she wanted.

Rose was about to say something when she caught a look from John, and then followed his gaze to where Vriska was rising from the floor slowly. She was breathing heavily and showing her teeth. She looked flushed, her skin was flecked with blue and with a quick motion she slipped the long nightshirt she had been wearing up over her horns and off, standing there naked except for her red sneakers. John raised an eyebrow and patted Rose on the leg. She had to choke back a wide grin. Vriska snarled- a guttural, animal noise that bubbled and frothed deep in her throat, and actually climbed up onto the table. As she crawled slowly towards the couple she swiped plates and dishes out of the way. She reached out and seized two handfuls of John's jumper.

“Human owners,” she whispered harshly.  
“Vriska?” John answered, mildly, as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world.  
“Use me! Make me feel! I want it right now!”  
“Vris-ka?” John said it again, slowly.  
“I know! I know you own me, and I'm sorry! I don't care if you have to whip me or beat me, I'll take it- but I want the noisy human reproduction, now! I- make me scream! Show me who owns me! DO SOMETHING!”

She was shaking him now. Rose hid her mouth behind her hand but her shoulders were jerking with soft laughter. John just smiled up at her, his glasses flashing in the light.  
“It's good to see you again Vriska,” he said, with an honest and wide smile, “it's been too long.”


	3. Chapter 3

Long nights passed. John would return from work and kiss his wife, or she would return from a late session with a difficult client and kiss her husband, and they would sit down to the meal that Vriska had prepared. She had the entire day to attend her chores and see to the evening meal, and she was becoming reasonably skilled at it. As with all of her duties, Vriska was taking her obligation to cook human meals very seriously. She still had a grave, distant expression that crossed her face from time to time, but she was warming to her new role. She now knew where her place was and, for the first time in as long as she could remember, she was accepted and wanted. Her owners prized her, and fawned on her with loving kisses and ran their fingers through her hair, and she was coming to love them for it.  
  
When they had dined and her owners were satisfied, they would often contemplate how to organise the evening's entertainment, and she loved them for that too. Her body was theirs to enjoy, and she went to her duties with an eager smile.  
  
John and Rose sat at the kitchen table either side of a chess board. Rose was smiling wryly and watching John while he sweated. He was openly perspiring as he contemplated his next move. One finger tapped incessantly on the tabletop as he thought though his next move.  
“What's the matter dear?” Rose smirked, “can't move?”  
“You're a cunning little wench,” John remarked calmly, “but I'll see to you yet.”  
“Really? I think you're looking a little strained there.”  
“Strained?”  
“A little distracted.”  
“Distracted?”  
“John!” She laughed, “can you please try to concentrate?”  
John glanced up at her and smiled, he licked his lips, and nodded. “I'm trying to.”  
“Hmm, maybe I don't have enough of an unfair advantage yet.”  
  
Rose sat lower in her chair and reached under the table to nudge Vriska's bare bottom sharply with her toe. At the signal, Vriska moaned softly and redoubled her efforts, bobbing her head onto John's erection more quickly and with vigorous applications of her dusky blue tongue. In response John groaned and tried fiercely to concentrate on the board. Finally, he gave up on strategy and sent one of his knights into the central area of the board in an almost flippantly bold manoeuvre, before slapping his palm down on the table to end his turn.  
  
Rose grinned broadly and shifted position, parting her legs to let Vriska into position beneath her dress. She felt the slave's tongue lap experimentally against her pubic mound and find the way into her. She had to use every ounce of self-control but she did nothing but smile and take a deep breath while Vriska drank of her. John leaned on his folded arms and chuckled.  
“Your move, darling.”  
“Why yes dear, I know, I am just thinking about it.”  
 “Something the matter?”  
“I don't know what you mean.”  
“Now you're looking a little flushed.”  
“Nonsense.”  
  
Now it was John's turn to enjoy his opponents' distraction. He put his foot out and gently pressed down on the back of Vriska's head. She had to be careful not to spear Rose with a horn, but she moaned deeply in the back of her throat and turned her mouth to Rose's wettened slit with great vigour. She tasted the sharp tang of Rose's juices and drank them down greedily with an audible sound and mashed her lips against Rose's crotch to find the clitoris that, she now knew, made humans go wild.  
  
Despite all of her best efforts though, Vriska couldn't distract Rose quite enough and she saw off the thrust of John's knight handily with a simple motion of a pawn. John groaned, and groaned again in torment as Vriska's hungry mouth found his penis and suckled on it hard enough to make him yelp. Rose leant forwards slightly and caught his eye.  
“If she makes you come, I'll let you use the flogger on me.”  
“The one you hate?”  
“Mmm.”  
“I can use it on you anyway if I feel like.”  
“I'll say thankyou kindly with each swat. You can even watch while Vriska uses it on me.”  
  
That was more then he could take, and John suddenly sat rigidly bolt upright, his face contorted with a strangled yowl as he came- hard. It was one of those orgasms that a man feels wrapped tight around his member like an invisible fist, pulling at him and ripping the seed out of his body. John just sat quietly and caught his breath while Vriska obediently cleaned him, neatly cleansing his flushed pink cock with her lips and tongue, even ducking her head to dry him off with her hair.  
“You're a monster,” he gasped.  
“Yes.”  
“You did that on purpose.”  
“Oh yes.”  
  
John sighed and stretched, raising his arms high up above his head. He motioned under the table for Vriska to lay off of him, but Rose made an admonishing sound.  
“Ah! You know the rules. She has to keep going.”  
“But, I came!”  
“The rules make no statement on that matter,” Rose said curtly, “she has to keep going.”  
John yelped as he felt her lips clamp down on him again, urged on with a prod from Rose, and his cock complained bitterly at the treatment- this was entirely the last thing he wanted after an orgasm of that intensity and it stung.  
“Ah! You bitch!” John laughed and reached out to knock over his king, “I give, I give!”  
Rose sat back and grinned smugly, “as planned.”  
  
Of course, Rose had to pay the price for her stunning victory, as John had not hesitation in reminding her. He knew exactly which flogger she had been thinking of- a thick leather one with a flat paddle that she had never liked. He had punished her with it at times, but it never formed part of their more consensual play. When John had recovered sufficiently, he took them both up to the bedroom.  
  
Rose made a small sound in her throat, somewhere between a disinterested grunt and a slightly warning tone, as she tested her bonds. She was stood up in front of the bed, and her arms were outstretched in a cruciform pose. Each wrist was manacled, and ropes led away to eye-bolts set into the walls. John finished binding her ankles together with a simple knot and stood up to admire his handiwork.  
  
She was, of course, entirely naked and on John's insistence she was wearing her collar. He then set a blindfold over her eyes, a leather mask, and tightened it in place with a buckle at the back. He half-turned and beckoned to Vriska, before stroking a line with his fingertip down Rose's spine, from the back of her neck all the way down over the cleft of her bottom.  
“Lick here.”  
Vriska nodded and stepped up behind Rose without hesitation, extending her tongue and touching the back of Rose's neck. She bent her knees and slowly squatted, drawing her tongue downwards over the groove of Rose's spine. By the time she had descended to lick over her owner's rump she could feel goosebumps distinctly against the tip of her tongue. Rose made another of those sounds, not close to a word but definitely meaningful. John patted Vriska on the head appreciatively, he loved it when Rose tried to keep a dignified front up as long as she could.  
  
John rubbed his nose and pondered the situation. Frankly, it was delicious to watch and he could have easily just left Rose there all night, but that would only be playing into her devious little hands. She had beaten him soundly in their chess match, and that was an act simply asking for an answer. He fetched the flogger, the one Rose hated, and swished it through the air. He slapped the short leather paddle of it against his palm with a crack that got a twitch out of Rose. Her body was trying to twist away from the sound reflexively, and he watched the bunching muscles of her back tense beautifully.  
“Vriska. Come.”  
Vriska darted to his side, kneeling. She was also grinning from ear to ear. She had never been in the middle of them in the bedroom like this, and she knew that she was being shown a new side of her owners, and a great deal of trust. John handed her the flogger and nodded at Rose.  
“You know what to do with one of these?”  
“I think so, John.”  
“I want to see Rose given a good flogging for beating me so unfairly at chess. I want to see a few lovely pink stripes across her rump.”  
Vriska licked her lips, a little nervously, “you... really want me to?”  
“Mhmm.”  
“It's a little... I mean you both... this is hard to explain to you, uhm,”  
“I think I understand, it's not easy to flog your owner is it?”  
“No,”  
“But it's what I want. And, you can feel free to enjoy it.”  
Vriska smirked, John knew he had her interest.  
“Really?”  
“Yes Vriska, its an order! And she has to say thank-you every time,” he raised his voice, “don't you, darling?”  
Rose responded with another flat tone, refusing to commit to an affirmative answer even though it was the truth. John wasn't letting her off the hook that easily though.  
“I didn't hear you, darling.”  
Rose responded with a little wiggle of her rump.  
  
John stroked a hand down the back of Vriska's hair, delving into the mass of it to seek out her neck and stroke gently. She began to purr without thinking.  
“Vris, you're a part of this house now. Don't be afraid, we're here.”  
John couldn't see her face, but something of the old Vriska, the mean Vriska, came over her grinning face. He told her not to be afraid and for the first time, she truly was not afraid. She felt something hot and dense rise in her chest, a weight lifting from her. She felt it as a physical presence lightening and leaving her at last. She had been bearing that weight for so long she hadn't even noticed it until it was gone. She straightened up a little.  
“I am glad to be yours,” she said, “both of yours.”  
  
Vriska advanced on the helpless Rose and drew back her arm, she bit down on her dark lip, hesitating only as the last nervousness left her. She thought she detected the slightest nod of Rose's head, and then Vriska punished her with the flogger. She whipped her across the rump, eliciting a groan of pain from Rose. Vriska looked over her shoulder at John, a look of pure savage glee in her eyes. John stared back at her and he had the same look to him.  
“Again,” he hissed.  
Vriska hit her with it again, sending her flesh quivering under the lash of the flogger and this time Rose couldn't hold back and let out a sharp shriek. The pain was a twisted joy to her, and the added sting of being watched by her John while she was tormented by their slave made the emotional high almost too much to bear. Rose was already highly aroused when Vriska hit her again and it nearly brought her to small orgasm.  
“Th-thank you! Ah!”  
Vriska looked back at John and he gestured to her. She flogged Rose again, and now her bottom had three horizontal strips in pink raised lividly against the flesh.  
“Thankyou!”  
“Again,” whispered John.  
“Thankyou!” Rose screamed it, because she meant it.  
  
Later, and John lay back on the bed. He was naked, except for his socks, and he had Rose on one side and Vriska on the other. Rose wa son her belly, letting the cool air get to her tormented rear, while Vriska was doing her best, it seemed, to burrow into his armpit. John casually stroked a hand along Vriska's back and looked down at Rose. She was still glowing with the rush of endorphins that the pain had brought on. John reflected that pretty much everything that tonight had worked, one way or another, to Rose's benefit- as usual. He chuckled to himself and stroked her cheek where a pain-tear had left a cool trail of moisture earlier.  
“Love you,”  
“Love you too,” she replied, leaning over to plant a kiss against his rib.  
John glanced down, and Vriska was still. She was dozing lightly.  
“How'm I doing?”  
“Wonderfully, as I expected.”  
“How are you doing?”  
Rose knew what John was asking. She looked across at Vriska. The troll was small and neat against John's side, her skin was flawless and tight. Rose casually glanced down at her hand for a moment before answering. Next time, though, it would be Vriska screaming under the flogger. Of that she was determined.  
“I'm still figuring it all out. But, I like it.”  
“Good,” he nodded firmly.  
  
Downstairs, and the house phone rang. Neither John or Rose was in any mood to get it, and Vriska didn't use the house phone. In their bed, the lovers ignored it. The phone clicked over to voicemail and a light blinked while a message recorded. The caller I.D. screen on the phone simply read “VANTAS.”  
  



	4. Chapter 4

Across the midwest and on syndication through satellite services across the continental US, the rasping, bitter voice of Karkat Vantas came out of radios, players, computers, at the same time three times a week. He was a darling of the right-wing circuit, although a polarising character. He had no truck with the more lunatic commentators of talk radio and he tended to mock and lampoon the conservative as much as the liberal excesses of society. They called him a different kind of conservative, self-centred and sollipsistic, unwilling to engage in culture wars on any terms except his own. He was certainly an individual, and like all true individualists he was attended by a throng of imitators. He worked from home largely now, from an audio office he had built in his basement. He needed to be near to an oxygen tank at all times and he disliked travelling.  
  
Karkat leaned close to the mike, and took a quick sip of something fortifying. He made no attempt to be polished in his presentation, his listeners heard every gulp, every lip-smack, the occasional cigarette lighting up. It made him more real, more present in their lives. People accused him of ranting but that was never the case, his voice was regulated and low in tone most of the times, he only seemed shrill because of the heights he reached when he really got going.  
  
“Listen up, America,” he began in his usual manner which was rapidly becoming a catchphrase, “while I explain a few points to you in detail. Heh, it's been a crazy time, huh? I guess that's how it is with hard times. Everyone gets so used to excusing away the toughness, they say 'oh it's the best we can do in this economy' or some bullshit. I'd like to talk to you a little on that subject tonight, America. And I'll be reviewing some books later, so you better fucking suck it up and listen, because if you people don't start valuing literature more you really are hopeless. What are we really working for here, though? What's it all about?”  
Karkat paused. He wasn't sure, for once, where he was really going with this. Normally the words just came on their own, but tonight it seemed harder.  
“Here's the thing. You go around, doing your thing, and one day you turn around and they tell you that it ain't going to last forever. Well lah-de-fucking-dah. Did you ever really think the good times would just go on and on? Who told you they would? Why did you believe them? It's a long, dark, cold fucking night America. And it's not coming to an end soon. So grab someone and hang on to them, buy a case of beers and huddle up around a candle. It's all you got. And one day that candle is going to go out, so when it does you just huddle up tighter, you build a pile, and you keep warm. Keep each other warm, America, no fucker else is going to do it for you.”  
  
He paused for breath, and went on. He had many theories about the economy, money, politics, society, and he was happy to expound on it at length. His listeners knew exactly what to expect and they loved him for it. The station had done extensive research, and apparently his popularity was largely down to the fact that after listening to an hour of Karkat Vantas everything else seemed somehow lighter. There was also, detectable under the surface, a certain romance to him. Karkat Vantas might be harsh, but he would not tolerate a bully and he would rain down hot coals on anyone he perceived to be an unrepentant asshole. The station knew, though they had wisely kept this from their star, that a good proportion of listeners were ladies of a certain age who liked to tune into his show when their husbands were out.  
  
The taping of the show took longer then usual, he had to break for oxygen half way through, and it was a whole hour before he felt ready to continue. That was why he didn't go out live any more. When he was finished up he sent off the files to his producer to be cleaned up and made ready for broadcast. All of the trolls had been minor celebrities for a while when they had arrived, but only Karkat had managed to parley that into a long-term career option. As far as he was aware the others were doing okay though. All except... Vriska, of course. Karkat closed his eyes and fumbled to the side for his tumbler of whiskey. That explained it, of course. He was thinking about her. For the first time in a good few sweeps he was thinking about her. She had done everything in her considerable power to alienate and push away her former friends, and finally they had got the message one by one. Vriska had always assumed that she would make it on her own, and that in the end she would be the one having to save the rest of their asses. But the world didn't work that way, and it lost interest in her quickly. Just like she deserved, with that attitude. She was cast aside by society far more quickly then by her friends.  
  
That, thought Karkat, was just an excuse though. Despite her abrasive nature she was, or at least had been, a friend. He couldn't quite bring himself to say a close friend, but to be sure there had been some good times too in there somewhere. And now, when she had finally hit rock bottom and seen no way forwards except for ritual enslavement who had she gone to? Not Karkat Vantas, that was for sure. Not any of her own kind. She'd gone to a human, of all people. Egbert was a good guy, yes, but seriously. What did he even know? Karkat brought his rambling thoughts under control and finished the last of the Scotch, throwing it down his throat angrily with a grunt of pain as it exploded in his belly. He had to say one thing for humans- they knew how to brew a good beverage. Karkat swayed to his feet a little unsteadily, and gripped his cane to support himself. There had been more then one tumbler of whiskey and he was feeling the effects. He hobbled across the floor, his cane rapping irritatingly on the hardwood, to the phone.  
  
As he dialled the number he tried to calculate the time difference but he gave up. It was too damn bad humans couldn't see the benefit of a nocturnal lifestyle. He fumbled with the buttons but finally got it right, and called Egbert's human-hive.  
  
“Hi!”  
“Egbert! Vantas. Listen, I-”  
“You've reached the home of John and Rose Egbert!”  
“Oh, no. This had better not be one of your stupid pranks-”  
“Please leave a message, we'll get right back to you.”  
“Egbert? Egbert! Can you hear this? Egbert, pick up!”  
There was a long beep.  
“EGBERT!” Karkat roared, before descending into a coughing fit, “fuck you with the force of a thousand angry fists up your human waste chute, why can't you-”  
He brought his breathing under control with an effort. He remembered, he had to ration out the ranting these days.  
“Egbert,” Karkat began again more quietly, “I'm coming over to-”  
There was another beep, and a click. Message recorded. Karkat sighed and put the phone down, pinching the bridge of his nose. Well done, he thought, great message. He didn't even know what it was he really wanted to say anyway, and so it made little difference.  
  
He made his way back to his chair, but first stopped to pick up the bottle. He wasn't in any mood to keep getting up for refills. That had been his method- he put the bottle at one end of the room and worked at the other. That way, getting a refill was just enough of a hassle to stop him doing it too much. But tonight, he felt like he deserved a break for once. In fact, he reasoned, if he was going to wallow in the middle of a one-man pity party over the past why not go the whole way. He set down the bottle at the little table beside his chair, and fetched his pack of cigarettes. Lights were the most he could handle now, but they still stung going down his throat in the way he liked. Better get the oxygen too, he reasoned. The doctors called it emphysema or some such bullshit, but he knew better. What he was suffering was simple old age, nothing more to it then that. And no cure. Gamzee was going to be able to watch human history unfold almost to completion, probably. Equius would see centuries rise and fall. Even Tavros was going to enjoy what to a human would be a normally long life, but not him. None of that for Karkat Vantas. He was on the way out and he knew it, and there was nothing more to be said about that.  
  
Karkat slid out a cigarette slowly. He loved the sound of it, hissing out of the pack. He loved seeing them all laid out together in their packaging, they were so clean and perfect. They were also rare now, as he couldn't afford to indulge like he used to, and so a cigarette now and then was an ultimate luxury. He lit up and inhaled briefly. The light cigarettes had minuscule perforations near the filter that let some of the smoke out, it was noticeably harder to pull on them then a normal one. Karkat frowned and did his best to cover the perforations with his fingers. Fuck it.  
“Here's to you,” he said aloud, holding up his glass, though he didn't know who he was toasting exactly, “wish you could be here. Glad you're not. Shouldn't have to put up with this bullshit from me. Oh well, down the hatch!”  
He swallowed a hit of whiskey and grimaced, it was too much. He could feel the coughs coming already and braced himself. When the attack hit he dropped the glass, coughing and hacking. He wiped at his mouth with his sleeve and saw a smear of blood stain the material. He was in no mood to let anything stop him now he'd started however. He poured another glass.  
  
Karkat was eventually awoken by a shaft of light falling, most irritatingly, across his face. HE tried to scream hoarsely but all that came out was an aggravated hiss. He sat up and shielded his eyes. He must have dozed off in the chair, that wasn't good. He didn't remember drifting off. Glancing to the side, he saw his ashtray was filled He checked hurriedly and realised- he had gone through practically the entire packet. Karkat groaned, he'd be paying for that later. Even worse, he had fallen asleep next to the ashtray which meant he had been smelling it all night, and his throat was not feeling crusted and thick. He pulled himself upright with some difficulty, and had to practically crawl up the basement stair towards his bathroom. He hated being awake during the day, but he remembered what he had wanted to do and realised that it was for the best- he would have had difficulty getting a taxi to the airport at the dead of night.  
  
John woke up with his girls nestled either side of him and sighed happily. The weekend at last, and he could forget about the stresses of the office for forty-eight blessed hours with his favourite people. All was well in the world of Egbert in that moment. Rose was curled up against him, her body fit against his perfectly with the long familiarity of years together, and they could stay like that indefinitely. Vriska had greedily taken up his other side, and was happily cutting off the circulation to his arm where she was laying on it. For once he didn't mind, it was good to know that she was actually wanting things again, for herself. It was a little sight of the old Vriska again, admittedly the selfish Vriska, but now that selfishness was tempered with the knowledge that she was owned. It was very much the best of both worlds, and he leaned over to kiss the tip of a pointed horn. He was rewarded with a low, deep purr from the troll girl. Not wishing to show favouritism, he then caressed Rose's bare shoulder, and she squirmed against him delightfully.  
  
Time was marching on, however. John pulled himself upright with a yawn, he was forced to displace Vriska in doing so and she muttered something under her breath. He got up out of bed with a wicked grin on his face and walked around the side of the bed, to unceremoniously shove and roll Vriska into Rose, who casually draped an arm over the troll and clasped her close. Vriska squeaked but cracked an eye open and smiled when she realised she was still being held. She lifted one of Rose's hands and kissed at the fingertips.  
“Do you want anything John?”  
“No, you two rest up. I think I'll cook us up some breakfast?”  
“You don't want me to?”  
“I want to do it, it's all right.”  
Behind her, Rose groaned and swatted at Vriska playfully, “let him, let him, it's what he's good for. Go to sleep.”  
  
John headed down to the kitchen in his robe and, as good as his word, he started work on a fine breakfast for them all, with pastries and savoury sausage, pancakes laden with syrup and bacon. He never got to spend as much time in the kitchen as he would like nowadays, and he relished the opportunity. As good as the food was, it was better to see the look on his girls' faces when they delighted in it. The morning was a lazy one and breakfast turned into more an early lunch, and by the afternoon they were in a mood to laze about on the couch with an afternoon film. Vriska curled at their feet happily while John and Rose embraced and argued good-naturedly over what to watch.  
  
By midafternoon they were interrupted by the doorbell. On his way to the door John noticed that the light on the phone was flashing, and made a mental note to check the messages later. They had a house rule about weekends and the phone. If it was anything to do with one of Rose's patients she was to politely but firmly decline to go in. John pulled the door open and just stood there, staring blankly.  
“Karkat? Hi!”  
  
Rose poked her head around the door to the lounge and gazed down the length of the corridor at the sound of irritated swearing. It was indeed Karkat, he pushed past John with a wave of his cane and stood imperiously in the corridor as John manhandled a portable oxygen tank into the house. He looked- old. Rose was shocked to see him, he hadn't been around in a while and the difference in his appearance was striking. They had talked on the phone now and then and she had even tuned in to his show for old times' sake, but she had no idea that he'd degenerated physically to the extent that he had. Karkat glanced over and nodded roughly.  
“Rose.”  
“Karkat.”  
“Do you have any human wriggler-spawn yet?”  
“No, Karkat.”  
“Good. I'm in no mood.”  
  
Karkat walked slowly towards her down the corridor while John paid off the taxi-driver who had brought him. Karkat made no mention of paying himself. Rose stepped out into the corridor to meet him and stood there demurely as he walked up to her and examined her up and down.  
“You look bigger.”  
“Yes, that's normal.”  
“And wider.”  
“Mm. I suppose that's normal too.”  
They regarded each other for a moment longer, and Karkat was the first to crack. He set aside his cane and opened his arms with a wry grin. Rose laughed and wrapped him in a hug, and kissed his cheek.  
“I can't believe I missed your bad-tempered, cantankerous self,”  
“I'm not that bad. I'm told I've mellowed out a lot you know.”  
“You should have told us you were coming, we had no idea!”  
“I left a message, looks like you don't check your phone any more, Rose.”  
“Well no matter, you're more then welcome Karkat, always. Always. Come, come into the lounge and sit down, did you fly over?”  
Karkat took up his cane and followed her, brought up by John who wheeled in the oxygen tank.  
“Yes. Caught an early flight, I know I should have made sure it was all right, but I still reserve the right to be rude and culturally insensitive now and then.”  
“I'm sure we all know it's just an act by now, here, sit sit.”  
  
Karkat allowed himself to be led to the armchair and John set up the tank discreetly beside him. Only when he was sat down and settled did Karkat cast an eye over Vriska who knelt on the floor by the couch, a faint blush of embarrassment settling on her cheeks. John insisted on fetching him something to eat, despite Karkat's protestations. He never ate during the daytime, even if he was awake, it only unsettled his stomach now. Nonetheless John wouldn't let up until he at least agreed to nibble on a sandwich. John opened a bottle of wine and offered Karkat a glass. He eyed the bottle for an unusually long time, before nodding curtly.  
“Just a little, please.”  
“Since when do you say please and thank you, Karkat?” John laughed, pouring out glasses an passing them around.  
“I'm tired and grumpy,” Karkat retorted, “and the flight was horrific. It's not like the old days.”  
John settled back and put a hand on Rose's knee, holding up his glass.  
“Ahhh yes, the old days. Here's to magic, and adventure!”  
Rose laughed and knocked glasses with him, even Karkat grunted. Vriska had a glass of her own and muttered into it softly before taking a sip.  
  
“Now let me see,” said John, “you have to catch us up. How's Gamzee?”  
“He's... better. He's a lot better. They think he'll be able to basically live on his own and look after himself, soon.”  
“Oh really? That's wonderful!”  
“Mmm. I need to see him again actually,” Karkat mused, staring at his wine, “and soon.”  
“Tavros?”  
“Oh, still messing around with the card games, doing quite well considering it's a bunch of absolute bullshit.”  
John pondered, “I spoke to Equius last year I think, and Aradia. Have you heard from Eridan?”  
“Yeah. Feferi's still at the bottom of the ocean somewhere, last I heard, which means Eridan is having to get used to living down there full time.”  
“I bet he just loves that.”  
“As much as you might expect, contrary bastard. I think he is still trying to convince her to move to some island or some bullshit. He wants to set up a shipwreck to live in and everything.”  
“That's adorable.”  
“Living in the past is what it is,” Karkat shrugged.  
“Well, it's wonderful to see you, it really is. We both missed you Karkat.”  
“Of course.”  
  
They sat in silence, just thinking about the old days a little more. It seemed so very much more like the past, like history, then it used to. It used to be recent events, now it was all ancient history.  
“John,”  
“Karkat?”  
“I came here for a reason you know.”  
“I thought as much.”  
Karkat gestured in Vriska's direction. “Her.”  
“Ah, yes.”  
Vriska looked up sharply, and leaned over almost imperceptibly, pressing her shoulder against John's knee.  
“John. What's going on here. I get a call from you telling me she's turned up, and next thing- this? I half expected you to call me back and tell me you'd had to stab her. Or she'd stabbed you. I was expecting to hear something!”  
“Oh, oh gosh Karkat I'm sorry, it's just been so- things went very fast!”  
“So I see.”  
“Well, I suppose you know what's going on even better then I do. Vriska is mine now. Well, ours really. We're making it work.”  
“Are you?”  
“Yes.” John said it again more firmly, “we are.”  
“So she's your...?  
“She's mine.”  
Karkat sighed and glanced up at Rose, who nodded in agreement.  
“I see.” Karkat looked at Vriska again coolly. He seemed to think about it for a moment before he said something. It was in Alternian, a series of harsh clicks and whirrs to the humans' ears, but Vriska sat bolt upright. She bit her lip and narrowed her eyes at him, before responding in a torrent of Alternian herself.  
“Hey! Hey Karkat that's not fair, what are you saying?” John raised his voice.  
“Shut up, Egbert, this is important.” Karkat went on to address Vriska again in more of the alien tongue, and she seemed more confident in her answer this time.  
John finished his wine and sat back.  
“Vriska,” he said sternly, “what did Karkat just say to you?”  
Vriska looked back at him, with pleading in her eyes, but she knew John, her owner John, well enough to know when he meant business and when there was no possibility of disobedience.  
“He said... he asked me if I was sure about this. He told me to answer in Alternian so I could tell him I wanted to get away without you knowing it.”  
John nodded slowly. He understood. In Karkat's place, he would probably have done something very similar.  
“Should I ask what you answered him?”  
Karkat piped up, “you should not. You should let her have some things to herself.”  
“Karkat!”  
“Suffice it to say,” Karkat sighed, “she will not be going anywhere. Okay? Just leave it at that.”  
“I see.” John was still flushed with frustration, and Rose had to put a hand on his arm to steady him.  
“I understand if you want me to leave,” Karkat made to stand up, “I don't know- I just- I didn't come here with a plan, John. I just wanted to see with my own eyes.”  
“No- no Karkat you can't leave now. I'm sorry! I understand why you had to see for yourself, I do! I would want to make sure one of my friends was doing all right if they went into something like this, too. I promise, it's fine Karkat.”  
  
Karkat flopped back into the chair and closed his eyes slowly. He reached out beside him for the oxygen tank, and Rose got up to help him with it efficiently. He took a few long breaths, not trying to talk but just watching them all, the group of them, sat together and looking at him as though he was the end of the world.  
“Karkat,” John said slowly, “are you all right?”  
Karkat shook his head slowly, breathing deeply.  
  
Vriska held her clenched fists to her mouth with a sudden gasp of realisation. Of course she could see it in him, she knew the signs to watch for. John looked at Rose, and suddenly there were tears in his eyes.  
“Human,” Karkat grated, “I came for another reason. I'm not going to be... around much longer. I wanted to see you all again.”  
“Oh,” John said lamely, his voice cracking, “Karkat,”  
“Shut up!” Karkat snapped, “I'm not hear for stupid human tears or fucking maudlin fucking... bullshit. Just get me another drink.”  
“Are you sure you should?”  
“Oh, wait, no that's right- if I don't drink then I'll live forever, I forgot.” Karkat grinned nastily and took another pull from his oxygen mask.  
  
They made him as comfortable as they could, with blankets and a pillow behind his head. John told Vriska in no uncertain terms that she would be waiting on Karkat hand and foot while he was there, above all other concerns. It was awkward for her, and certainly embarrassing, but she complied without a second word because the look in John's eyes told her it was so important to him. She wanted more then anything to be as important to her owner as that.  
  
When the sun went down Karkat seemed more like his usual self. He insisted on more wine, and agreed to have a little soup with the rest of them. John pulled out an occasional table and they were able to eat at it together in the lounge, surrounding Karkat's little nest of blankets in his chair.  
  
“This is good,” he pronounced, “you're getting better, Egbert. This isn't fucking awful.”  
“Thanks.”  
Karkat grimaced, “I'm dying, I'm not fucking porcelain. It's me, Egbert.”  
“Have you been to a doctor? What have they said is... you know... wrong?”  
Karkat grunted and indicated the oxygen tank, “where you think I got that heavy bastard? A yard sale? I've been to doctors, all over. It's no one thing really. Lungs bad, joints bad, fucking pain everywhere that can feel it. Usual.”  
“There's got to be something we can do, though!”  
“Yes.”  
“What?”  
“Get me more wine and stop bitching. I'm old, Egbert. I've had my time.”  
John looked crushed. Rose circled his head with an arm and kissed the top of his head, murmuring comforting nothings in his ear. Karkat went about his food sternly, stabbing pieces of bread into the soup and sucking them.  
“It's all right, Egbert. I've had a pretty good life here. Better then,” he hesitated, suddenly aware of Vriska, “then it could have been. But I'm old.”  
“You keep saying that.”  
“I keeps being true. It hasn't stopped being a thing that's true just because you don't like it.”  
“It's just hard, man. I mean, I don't know what it'll be like without you there.”  
“You'll do fine.”  
“Karkat...”  
“Shut up.”  
  
They spent the night talking, going over the old days. Things they could have done, or should have done. Things they should have said, long before, things they wished they had never said. Vriska was mostly silent. Rose kissed John on the forehead and announced she was going to bed and when she did, she beckoned for Vriska to follow. The troll was unwilling, till Rose snapped her fingers firmly, and insisted. They left Karkat and John alone, to talk into the night.  
  
“How long...?”  
“I probably won't see out the s- the year.” Karkat muttered.  
“They can't be so sure, though.”  
“Pretty sure. And I'm pretty sure too.”  
“I'm so, so sorry.”  
  
Karkat seemed to ponder this for a moment, and he reached out across the table to take John's hand suddenly, holding on with a surprising vigour.  
“It's not been too short a life, John. I mean, look at Gamzee, he's going to look back on all the time he spent with us and it'll be just a tiny blip on his whole life, you know? Makes no difference between me and you, we're both about the same size a blip.”  
“I guess.”  
Karkat gritted his teeth, John still wasn't getting it.  
“John, do you know how long Vriska is going to live?”  
John looked up sharply at him.  
“What does that have to do with anything?”  
“John. John. I'll be gone, pretty soon. And from her point of view you'll be gone pretty soon after. A few decades maybe, but pretty fucking soon, for her. And she'll go on. What's going to happen to her?”  
“Hey I guess me and Rose better have some kids then! We could pass her down the family.”  
Karkat nodded gravely, “such things are not unknown in troll culture. You should consider it.”  
“Jesus, Karkat! I was only kidding!”  
“Well I wasn't. You need to think about this shit! Think for once in your tiny, short-ass human life!”  
“Well what do you think I should do, if you're so wise?”  
Karkat looked him in the eye.  
“Give her away.”  
“What?”  
“Fuck tradition. Get her into shape, and tell her to fuck off. Force her. Even if she kicks and screams, kick her out to make it on her own.”  
“But-”  
“John.”  
Karkat sat back in his makeshift throne of blankets and finished his wine. “You asked what I thought.”  
“You're still a real douche sometimes you know.”  
“Glad I don't disappoint.”  
“I don't think I could do that to her.”  
“Fine, live forever then, that's your other option.”  
John grimaced, and Karkat nodded sternly.  
“I'll think about it.”  
“Yeah,” sighed Karkat, “you think on it.”  
  
  



	5. Chapter 5

John lay in bed next to Rose, who was casually walking her fingers in little circles over his chest. She watched the rise and fall of his breathing attentively, and waited for him to reach the point where he could bear the silence no more patiently. Vriska was fussing over her chores downstairs, John had told her to clean up after their dinner and from then to look after anything Karkat would need over the night. They had given Karkat the guest bedroom, and she was sleeping on a folding cot bed next to him that night.  
“He said we should just give her up,” John whispered.  
“How long will she live, anyway?”  
“I dunno. Ages. Basically.”  
“He's only thinking about her. In his own way Karkat is a faithful friend.”  
“Oh, I know, I know,” John sighed, “I'm not angry at Karkat. I'm angry because he has a point.”  
Rose shifted to sit up, kneeling next to him. She was leaning forward slightly, resting her hands on her thighs, and her bare breasts pressed together between her arms.  
“John, we can't shy away from this.”  
“I'm not, I'm not.”  
“You're doing what you always do, which is to believe that things will come out for the best, and it's what I love about you, but John...”  
“You think we should get rid of her, too.”  
“No, no not that.” Rose sighed and fiddled with a length of hair she twisted around a finger, “this time with Vriska has been wonderful. It's been good for her too, and good for us.”  
John grinned, “you like having someone else to push around!”  
“Well, can't blame a girl for having fun.”  
John stroked a finger up and down her arm slowly. “You're sexy when you're bad.”  
  
Rose smiled warmly and curled up, laying her head against his stomach and wriggling under the blankets with him. She turned her head to kiss around his navel, and casually extended a hand to tickle her fingertips around his penis. She encircled it in a loose fist, stroking her fingers up the underside repeatedly. John said nothing, just staring up at the ceiling. Silently, steadily, his cock rose to tumescence under her playful little touches. She enjoyed the feel of his arousal- his pleasure in her- so evident and obvious to display under her fingers.  
“So. Do we keep her?” John asked, closing his eyes.  
Rose stroked the tip against her lips thoughtfully, pondering as she enjoyed the feel of the warm smooth skin over her mouth. “I don't know,” she admitted, “but whatever you decide I'll support it.”  
“Thanks,” John sighed happily and shifted his hips, shivering as he felt the slightest flick of a tongue over his erection, “I really couldn't make it without you, honey.”  
“Tell me more,” Rose said, kissing his tip lightly, “tell me everything, I want it all.”  
“You're greedy.”  
“Mmm!”  
“Ah!”  
Rose sucked gently, just enough to let him feel a flush of warmth spread all the way through his body.  
“I love you,” said John happily, arching his back and cupping his hand behind his head, “you're always so good to me and you look after me and- ah-h-h, you're sexier every time I look at you. And you have the most wonderful little cock-sucking mouth!”  
“Mhmm?”  
“Oh-h-h you've got the most gorgeous body, you're perfect everywhere, I love every bit of you. I love your legs, and your thighs, and I really love your hips, and your ass drives me crazy, and your lovely little tummy, and your titties!”  
Rose was by now bobbing her head up and down roughly, fast the way she knew he liked it. When she was being romantic she gave little kisses, but when she wanted to drive her man wild until he came hard enough to hurt she worked his cock almost frantically fast without any care for how it looked or the sucking noises she made.  
  
John laid back and arched his spine, grabbing up bunches of sheet in his fists and squirming under the relentless assault on his erection until, inevitably, Rose took his mind of what was bothering him entirely and began to shiver violently as he came. As he murmured nonsense noises under his breath and casually stroked her hair in gratitude, there came a muffled angry thumping as the wall was beaten on from the other side, interrupted with angry coughing.  
“Human assholes! Knock it off! Argh!”  
“Sorry Karkat!”  
“Yes, sorry Karkat!”  
Rose covered her mouth and stared at John, her shoulders twitching uncontrollably.  
“Oh God, I can't believe he heard that, I forgot how thin that wall is!”  
John chuckled softly and whispered back at her, “like being kids again, sneaking around your mom.”  
“Or your dad, I swear he had eyes in the back of his head.”  
John embraced her and they rolled over together, wrapped up in sheets and each other.  
“I feel better,” he whispered, “thanks.”  
“Any idea what you want to do?”  
“We'll work it out together, the three of us.”  
“Good.”  
  
Karkat rolled onto his side, and fumbled at the oxygen cylinder beside the bed. Vriska stirred and got up, and silently passed the mask to him. He stared at her mutely for a moment, before accepting her help and breathing deeply from the tank. When he had settled and regained his composure, she put the oxygen tank away neatly and stood there over him, just watching while he got comfortable. It was no less then might be expected of a slave troll, and she would not move until he was asleep. Karkat could not sleep. He cracked open one baleful yellow eye.  
“You're hovering,” he accused.  
“Do you need anything?”  
“Like what?”  
“Like anything.”  
Karkat frowned, drawing his brows together ferociously. “Like... what?”  
“Anything, I told you. Do you want me to...” she made to slip her broad tee-shirt down off one shoulder, exposing a little skin meaningfully.  
“Even that, huh?”  
“Do you want... anything?”  
Karkat just stared forwards, glaring at the ceiling. “I suppose John taught you that.”  
Vriska hissed angrily, “no.”  
“Why, then?”  
“Because,” she huffed, “he wants you to be happy. And I want him to be happy.”  
“Your owner.”  
“My owner, yes.”  
“Why did you do it, Vris? Why'd you go to John?”  
“Stop acting like the world out there has so much to fucking offer me! John took me in, he gave me a break for once and it's the first time in sweeps anyone even looked at me like they gave a single fuck about me! Why can't you understand that?”  
“Vris, I know he means well, but he's a human!”  
“So? Not like I had much choice.”  
“You had fucking choices! Shit, you could have gone to me, or Sol, or anyone! You think I'd leave you to starve, if I'd known?”  
She was nervously stroking her left hand over her right bicep, now pinching at the skin repeatedly in a compulsive gesture, “no, I couldn't go to any of you. I thought about it, you know? But I couldn't.” She stopped, taking a moment to swallow then breathe, “after everything.”  
“It wasn't so bad. You were an insufferable bitch but still...”  
“Still what? Old-times sake? It doesn't matter between friends if you act like a bitch? It matters... to me it does. I couldn't, Karkat, I really couldn't. I tried- I looked you up, even, but I couldn't do it.”  
“Really? You looked me up?”  
She nodded in silence, her silhouette in the dark bobbing.  
“Vriska... I would have looked after you.”  
“Taken me as yours, you mean.”  
“If it came to that.”  
“Thanks, I guess. It doesn't matter.”  
“Why John!”  
“Why not? I always... liked John!”  
“Did you?”  
“Yes!”  
“That much?”  
“What's this really about- are you jealous that it was him and not you I went to?”  
“No!”  
“No offence, but you need help just standing up. I think I'd break you in half.”  
“Oh, thanks. That's just fucking charming. Hey remind me, you were meant to keep me happy, right? Great job.”  
She bristled at that, and went quiet. She immediately regretted snapping at him, and made to crouch down on her cot to sleep.  
“Vris.”  
“Yes.”  
“I'm not jealous.”  
“Okay.”  
“You have to realise, that there's problems with picking John though.”  
“Mm.”  
Karkat coughed softly, “how long will he be there for you?”  
“Urrgh. Do you want anything or can I sleep?”  
“I mean it! What are you going to do when he's old? Take a good fucking look Vriska,” Karkat held a trembling, wrinkled hand out over the edge of the bed and waved it, “cause this is how humans get, and pretty fucking quickly.”  
“I don't care.”  
“Don't you?”  
“No!”  
Karkat rolled over and shut his eyes. He muttered “well why not me then,” under his breath and Vriska pretended not to hear him.  
  
In the morning Karkat was the last to wake. He respected that he was not in a nocturnal household and did his best to accommodate, but it was still lunchtime before he appeared. John and Rose were enjoying a light meal, a little salad with sliced meats and baguettes. They looked up when Karkat grumbled his way into the kitchen.  
“Morning, sunshine!” John grinned.  
“Yes. Good day Egberts.”  
Rose nodded over her wine, “as you well know, I never took John's surname. I'm still a Lalonde.”  
“Oh really, I had quite forgotten,” Karkat grinned horribly, “I expect it is a source of great tension and upsetting arguments.”  
“Not really, it never bothered us.”  
“Don't mind him,” John patted her arm, “it's just the morning moodiness.”  
“I quite remember it.”  
“He'll settle down after he gets some sugar in him.”  
“We'll need a lot more maple syrup.”  
Karkat gave an exasperated groan, his voice was throaty, hoarse and weak at this time in the morning.  
“Human bitches. I am right here you know. Stop talking about me like I'm a fucking elsewhere person.”  
Rose chuckled, “I think he's finally ready to join us in the land of the living.”  
“How did you sleep Karkat?” John smiled brightly as he steered the conversation away. He liked seeing Rose in a playful mood, but he knew better then to push Karkat too far.  
“It was fine,” Karkat growled around a mouthful of bread.  
“Do you need anything? More pillows? We could build a little pile-”  
“No.” Karkat said flatly, “besides I won't be staying.”  
John glanced at Rose, who shared a look with him for a moment. Trolls didn't communicate with eye-contact in the same way, the significance was lost on their guest.  
“Karkat,”  
“What?” Karkat stuffed more baguette into his mouth, mashing the bread to oblivion easily with pointed teeth.  
“We were talking before. We were thinking, maybe you could stay a while?”  
“Stay?”  
“Here, with us. I mean, it's been so long since we saw you, and what with everything... you should stay.”  
Karkat glanced around the table slowly. Rose was smiling at him cooly, she had seen and treated too many deep hurts to show pity but John was not so hardened, his eyes were openly sorrowful. Vriska just cleared away the detritus of the meal efficiently, cleaning things away without being told what to do. Just like a good slave.  
“Don't think that's so good an idea.”  
“Well why not? I mean we can do up the spare room a bit better for you of course, and you know Vriska will always be there to look after you- it would be good for you to be around people!”  
“This isn't a magical adventure John. We're not going to learn a little something about ourselves and each other, and I'm not going to have a new lease on life by having my eyes opened up to what really matters. I'm old, and sick, and dying and that's that. I've got shit to go and get done while I still can.”  
“But-”  
Rose put her hand over John's, squeezing his fingers. John looked at her in desperation and just shook her head quietly. He slumped a little in his seat, he knew there would be no talking Karkat round.  
  
They enjoyed a quiet afternoon, it was good to see Karkat unwind and relax a little. He even consented to watch a romantic movie with them, an honour rarely bestowed when he wasn't in charge of every tiny detail of the viewing. They all sat together on the couch, basking in the glow of the screen and the dreams it contained. Karkat's eyes grew wide as the heroine explained that her feelings would never change, and his knuckles whitened when the hero just couldn't bring himself to find the words that would bring them together- at least until the third act and inevitable happy ending. All the while Vriska prowled about, first kneeling by John's feet, then crawling over to nuzzle at Rose's lap, before finally laying down like a truculent cat over all of their toes. She found it hard to sit still through an entire film, and found excuses to demand attention in little pats and caresses here and there. She looked, in fact, as though she would rather be nowhere else and Karkat knew it.  
  
As the evening drew in close Karkat borrowed their computer to make his travel arrangements. He sat alone in the study, tapping away and grumbling over his breath at prices. He hesitated when he felt a hand on his shoulder, slender fingers delicately moving to stroke the side of his neck. It was an unforgivable slight, or else an unmistakable mating signal. He looked up and back, and Vriska was there beside him. She looked down at him with hooded eyes, staring at his lined and careworn face, before she nodded silently.  
“You...?”  
She shrugged.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Do you want anything?” She whispered.  
“Anything?”  
“Mhmm.”  
“We've been through this.”  
“Then it's my last chance with you,” she bit her lip and looked down sheepishly, “please?”  
  
The look on her face was submissive and inviting, openly so. Wantonly so. Karkat bristled and pushed himself to his feet with a sudden surge of energy. Vriska recoiled in shock from the pain and held her hand up to her cheek, it took a moment to register that he had slapped her.  
  
“Karkat?”  
“Don't you dare!”  
“I- I don't-”  
“You think I want your charity, too?”  
“I-” she squeezed her eyes shut, “I meant it.”  
“Did you really?” He sneered, “let me guess, a sudden rush of emotion, you want me, you need me, you can't bear to see me go, is that it? Am I close?”  
“Karkat...”  
“Don't say my fucking name unless you've got something more to follow up with. Was it John? Did he tell you to show me a good time?”  
“No!” She flashed him a look, this time an honest look containing venom and it thrilled him to see her angry and genuine.  
“Ah, no. No John wouldn't think of that. It wouldn't even enter his big empty human head to use you on me.” He paused, letting it sink in, “but Rose would.”  
“Karkat, please,” she reached out for his hand but he wouldn't let her, “just let go, we don't even have to do anything, I'll just stay beside you,”  
“Let go of me,”  
“No!”  
“I said let go!” He pulled, and she had to let go of his hand or risk hurting him. Karkat stalked out to the corridor.  
“Rose! Rose! Where are you!”  
She was stood in the corner in the corridor, where she could listen to the occupants of the study without being observed of course.  
“I'm here.”  
“You've got some fucking nerve, trying that on me.”  
“Would it make you feel better to learn I didn't really think it would work?”  
Karkat held up one hand, with his thumb pinched close to his index finger.  
“It makes me feel that much fucking better!”  
“It'll break John's heart to see you go like this.”  
“He'd rather watch me wither away, then? Hey?”  
“You're being unreasonable.” Her voice was a low, emotionless monotone.  
“Yes! Yes I fucking am, and I love it. Being unreasonable is the order of the fucking day it seems, and if you can't beat them with an organic carbon striking rod you might as well join them!”  
Rose pushed away from the wall and walked up to him with a sigh, dismissing Vriska with a gesture. Karkat seethed as Vriska slunk away gratefully.  
“Let's be honest with each other. I'm offering you a lot here, Karkat.”  
“You mean, the use of your slave.”  
“If that's how you want to put it.”  
“It is.”  
“Then yes, you can have the use of this household's slave.”  
“She wouldn't like that much.”  
“She doesn't like seeing John hurt, either.”  
“You're a real piece of work, Rose Lalonde.”  
“So I'm told. Will you stay?”  
Karkat grimaced. “No. But... I'll come back, when I can.”  
“Why are you being so obstinate?”  
Karkat wrinkled her a wry grin and patted her on the shoulder, “because I've learned a little bit about myself, and what's really important in life. There's things I need to do, things I should have done when I had more time. I promise, I will come back as soon as I can.”  
“I suppose that will have to be enough.”  
“I suppose it will.”  
She held out her hand briskly, with a fragile little smile, and Karkat shook it fondly.  
  
The night had fully fallen and the moon was high when the taxi turned up at the house. Karkat much preferred travelling at night, and he was practically animated as John and Vriska manoeuvred his oxygen cylinder into the car.  
“You sure you won't let me at least drive you to the airport?” John sighed and closed the boot of the taxi, stretching and pressing his palms into the small of his back.  
“Nonsense. Taxi ride into the night is far more dramatic a departure.” Karkat was wrapped up in his coat and scarves, one of which had been donated by Rose as a parting gesture.  
“You're still a big dork.”  
“And you're still deeply human.”  
“Thank you!”  
Karkat grunted, “thank you. For the food, it was good.”  
“Rose says you'll be back.”  
“Soon as I can.”  
“I'll be waiting. I'll talk to you online.”  
“John. Fine. We'll talk. Don't make this into some kind of a thing. You have a couple of girls back there who need you a whole lot more then I do.”  
John nodded and opened the door. Before Karkat could get into the car he was swept up into a hug that brought forth a fresh torrent of muttered curses.  
“Let me go, Egbert you enormous asshole!”  
“Ha, you thought you'd get away without a hug?”  
Karkat shrugged and couldn't help but smile a little.  
“I'm still not sure about this whole thing with Vriska, you know.”  
“I know. But hey, there's always trouble ahead, that's no excuse not to live your life. We'll deal with stuff when it comes.”  
“Yeah.” Karkat sniffed, “I guess you will.”  
“See you later, Karkat.”  
“See you later, John.”  
  
John held up a hand as he watched the taxi turn the corner down the street. He felt oddly buoyant and young, even as his mood was tempered with the sadness he knew was ahead, a sadness that lay heavy and leaden on the horizon like an oncoming thunderhead. He turned back to the house and smiled as he saw the figures waiting in the doorway for him. They shimmered and blurred together as hot tears sparked in his eyes, and he went to them.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh-h-h-h things don't really resolve in the end, do they? That's life I guess. Why do I have so many feelings about this one?


End file.
